


The Soul Ferried to the Starry Night

by LesleyJean97



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, I had this canon in 2017 but I couldn't find time to write it down, M/M, One Shot, Post-Dead Men Tell No Tales, but now since I'm in quarantine and have a lot of time..., it's a mess i get it, what if...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:53:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23698036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LesleyJean97/pseuds/LesleyJean97
Summary: What if Jack was killed by Salazar down there in the deep ocean?
Relationships: Bootstrap Bill Turner & Will Turner, Jack Sparrow/Will Turner
Comments: 6
Kudos: 70





	The Soul Ferried to the Starry Night

**Author's Note:**

> 'The deceased will become stars and look down on you from above.' Actually I've got this idea from The Lion King and I think it fits the settings of PotC so...
> 
> Warning: Major Character Death. If it would make you feel uncomfortable, do not proceed.
> 
> p.s I'm not a native speaker so there might be some ridiculous grammatical errors and some expressions might be phrased in an incorrect way. Anyway, enjoy reading!

Astronomy was not among Will’s many an accomplishment and consequently, he was not strong on identifying the stars. It was only after he captained The Flying Dutchman that he started to pick up this prowess. Still, standing on the prow for hours and gazing at those shimmering flares was sure not in his element, yet the serenity and comfort brought by it were pure joie de vivre, for which he had a thriving crave and could always desire for more.

Confined in Davy Jones’ Locker, people were easily to develop a disorientation of time and direction. Sailing on the vast sea where there was no end but swirls of mists and vapor gave people a delusion that none was real. And that was the most formidable punishment cursed by Calypso – being banished, being isolated and being forgotten. Only when the dinghies ferrying lost souls sailed into the vision would make these poor guys feel they were in fact, alive and thus breathing a breath of relief. Hence there was an outburst of joy from stem to stern when the clusters of gleams appearing on the horizon.

‘Hoist the sails!’ exclaimed Will in a commanding voice, ‘Run out the sweeps!’

At the command of the captain the crew members were in motion immediately. They then waited in silence after all the preparations were done, leaning against the side, watching over at those dinghies swaying like a swing in between ceaselessly surging waves. The gleams flickered through whooshing waters, leaving nothing but obscure silhouettes within clouds of spray. Slowly but steadfastly moving forward, the dinghies gained on The Flying Dutchman, sailing forward under the watchful eyes of their guardian.

There were hundreds of dinghies rocking up and down through the tides, each one boarding a poor lost soul who met his demise on the grim vast sea miserably and engulfed by these dark waters. And among those hundreds of detached faces as legion as stars, Will recognized a familiar one. Having captained The Dutchman for more than ten years, it was no rare occasion when one of the crew picked out a familiar face through the mists, yet it was still heartbreaking every time they were confronted with this. However, none had ever brought such agonizing to him.

‘Jack?’ He heard himself squealing, feeling his voice not coming from this world.

At first the man whom he was calling didn’t give any response. He just sat there, still and lifeless, rising and falling with the tides, totally oblivious to the calls from on board as if there had been a transparent barrier between them to block the sounds. For a split second Will assumed that he might mistaken some poor guy for Jack and was about to let out a breath which he wasn’t aware that he had held when that man slowly and mechanically, turned to him. 

‘By Jove! William! Is that really you?’ crowed Jack. His words remaining nothing but some hollow syllables when they finally managed to reach Will, losing most of the vitality while pushing their way through the dense mists. There was a moment when the spray fragmented, making it possible for Will to peer through. Still in those rags and grandiose ornaments, Jack, the guy who was known for his idle banters was now laughing hollowly, his face unnaturally puffy and his eyes were like two hollow voids, deprived of the glistening glows.

‘Jack, what happened? How could this even happen?’ He screeched, vacantly staring at the swaying dinghy in great anguish whereas at the same time, feeling an urge to tear his eyes away as it was too grievous to watch.

He waited for quite a long time before hearing Jack’s voice ringing again, ‘We failed. Seems like it.’ He muttered slowly, each syllable spewed out one after another as if he had been digging in memories for the details, ‘It’s Salazar. He has the trident, no, had.’ He corrected himself promptly, ‘Had it not been for the courage and determination of your son, the whole sea would have knelt down to him. A close shave indeed though, at great costs. Henry did an excellent job.’ He let out a laugh, which was from his heart this time and made him sound like a real people, in flesh and bones.

‘Someone, cast a rope, quick!’ Will yelled at his crew, and turned back at Jack, ‘Jack, come aboard! Take the rope!’ He shrilled, bouncing up and down by the side like a rabbit, drumming the wooden rim with his fists, desperate with anxiety. ‘Take it! Jack!’

‘I swear, Will, he looks just like you.’ Jack murmured, gazing in the distance of vagueness, as if talking to himself.

‘Jack! Take the rope!’ cried Will helplessly, engulfed in despair whilst watching the dinghy roving away, gradually fading into the fog along with Jack who just continued rambling. Overpowered by desperation, he screamed out what seemed to be the most unforgiveable to Jack after almost all the attempts had been dropping like flies, ‘Say you are willing to serve! Say you agree to serve on The Dutchman!’

There was an eerie, eccentric silence doming over them after Will threw caution to the winds squealing out those words recklessly as the crew members were all gaping at each other in astonishment. It was eventually shattered by Jack’s dreamy voice moments later.

‘I thought you know me, William.’

‘I want you to live!’

‘And I shall live. It’s just not in this world.’ Jack chuckled, ‘I’ll sail to the freedom, to the starry sky, free forever.’

Will started trotting along the side to keep up with Jack as he slowly drifted forward, ‘And ready to bid farewell to this world? There’s nothing here that you ever care about, that worth your while to stay? The rum? The Pearl? The port?’ prompted Will, peering at that detached face for any signs, any slight movements of muscles. ‘Me?’ Will boldly ventured, voice trembling like a leaf swaying in gusts of storming wind in solitariness.

Jack unexpectedly fell into a long, pregnant silence, gazing in the misty distance with his two hollow eyes.

‘You can’t save me from death this time, Will. It’s my time to sail to the other world.’ Answered him at last with a bitter laugh, ‘Though I do regret not telling you earlier but–’

So fragile were those words, that they were easily drowned by roaring tides when The Dutchman quietly reached the edge of the other world. Where Jack used to be left nothing but foams and waves. Will stared blankly at the dark waters, for a split moment he had an ominous inkling that he might lose the power of speech as all the voices suddenly died in his throat. He was numbed for a moment or two and was thankful that his voices came back seconds later. What first came out from his throat was a faint whimper. He felt himself like a new-born baby, curling up while cradling himself in a fetus position, sobbing in a suppressed, peeping sound.

For months Will avoided looking into the sky, for it no longer brought him any peace or joy but endless gloom and sentiment. He simply walked away from the helm and appointed his first mate to take over when they needed the stars to navigate. The curtains in his room were all tightly drawn, lest a streak of starlight might accidentally sneak into and thus bringing another churning emotional wave to him.

On one windless night, he accidentally drank himself into a stupor and wandered on the deck like a haunting ghost until he finally stumbled on a bucket and stopped short. He darted a quick glimpse up at the helm through dimmed eyes, which was blurred into a hazy shadow, suddenly seized up by the urge to once again feel it. He wobbled down there in unsteady paces, laying his fingers on the eroded wooden rudder and caressing it in soft, tender moves as an implicit affection stealthily creeping onto his face, like what Jack used to do.

Yeah, he was harked back to Jack. For months he tried to block himself from the fragments of memories and consequently barricade himself in an illusory bubble of joy. But in the end all his attempts were in vain. Those sentimental emotions could always find a crack through which they could sneak into.

Will looked up at the starry sky, narrowing his eyes as his gaze swept swiftly across those gleaming stars, most of which he could easily recognize. Nonetheless, there was one which he was sure that he had never seen before. It was clustered by clumps of shimmering stars, brighter than any other one. Standing still, Will gazed up at that star for a long time as a sense of familiarity suddenly came in waves.

‘Jack?’ He called out instinctively, a spark of expectation glittering in his eyes as if he had been waiting for its response.

His voices were soon dissolved in the breeze, leaving not a single trace in the middle of the vast sea and not a single reply echoing as well. When he finally realized that all the attempts drew a blank, Will heaved a heavy sigh, gazing down at the helm as a shadow of melancholy crept onto his face, totally at a loss about what to do.

The Dutchman continued ghosting on the waters under the dome of darkness like it used to. They drifted along the raging waves in the daylight, lounging around, drinking and sleeping to while away the time for they were excused duties during the daytime, nothing worth bustling around, at least not until sundown – when the night fell and the stars show themselves.

For days that star, which was uncharted before, shone proudly in the northern sky. It caught Will’s imagination as his curiosity grew stronger day by day. So one day during the midnight when all the crew retired to their respective rooms and thus leaving him alone on the deck, Will made up his mind to follow that star and go further into the sea to unravel the mystery.

The star led him to a shoal. A seemingly strange-looking object caught his attention which he assumed to be a sharp-edged shell. Nevertheless, he figured that he might as well give a scrutiny and got into a dinghy, zipping towards the shallows. Under the faint starlight he recognized it was the compass which Jack had held for years the instant he saw it at close quarters. Will trotted to where it was left to rot and held it cautiously in the cupped hands, gazing at it narrowly and feverishly kissing it, caressing its cold and salty surface with his warm yet trembling lips.

He retrieved part of what he had lost. At that very moment he had a hallucination that Jack was still by his side, he could feel his warmth, sensed his breath and heard his voice. The star led him there, to his deceased love.

A drop of warm tears trickled down Will’s leathery face. He looked up at the starry sky which was blurred by the tears, giving vent to a bitter but hearted chuckle when he saw that twinkling star proudly illuminating the northern sky, blinking in a supercilious yet mischievous way.

Bootstrap came to him the other day, ‘I saw you reset a course, Captain. Is there any solid reason behind this… or is it just a hasty decision?’ He hazarded. Will shook his head and showed him the compass, old Bootstrap almost stunned numb. ‘Is this… is this that compass?’

Will gave him a curt nod, ‘Jack’s compass. The star led me to it.’ He snorted a faint smile, ‘They say the deceased will become stars after their demise. I disbelieved this, I used to think this was only an old sailors’ tale. But now–’ He caressed the compass tenderly with his calloused palms, ‘–it leads me to him.’

Bootstrap looked at him thoughtfully before cautiously uttering an ambiguous reply, ‘The star led you, maybe. But you came there of your own accord.’ He was about to leave when Will buttonholed him with a cough.

‘The compass is of no use here in Davy Jones’ Locker.’

Bootstrap cocked his eyebrow after hearing this, ‘Then the course… how do you manage to set it without the compass?’

‘Just listen to the voices in my head. I know where I’m heading.’ He chuckled, ‘I just follow them.’ He sniffed out a sigh, ‘There are so many voices, thoughts, repressed and hidden throughout the years. With hindsight, I should have spoken them out earlier.’

Bootstrap patted him gently on the shoulder, ‘Not a day should be wasted in being true to your feelings.’

On hearing this, Will allowed himself a wan smile and pulled Bootstrap into a hug, relieved to know at least not all was lost for him.

The Dutchman still ghosted on the sea like a phantom shadow and Will, unlike what he used to be, stood on the deck every night as long as weather permitted, bracing himself against the helm and gazing up at the northern sky where one particular star always blazed with bright silver glitters – he named it ‘Sparrow’. And every time he looked at it, when his sight met its shimmer, he knew his sparrow flew to the starry night and found his freedom at last, free from the world, beyond the human flesh and illuminating as a star ever after.


End file.
